In memoria pancakes
by Penny S Lane
Summary: High school had been a dark time for Roxas and his twin brother Sora. Years later and after a long separation, Roxas coincidentally meets his old best friend and the only one who knew anything about his difficult times. Fortunately for him, things have gotten much better since then, haven't they? AU, AxelRoxas


**Disclaimer:** I got nothin. I just love the idea of Axel in stovepipes and a blazer, and you can't take that from me.

Chapter 1

* * *

Roxas turned off the faucet with a rough twist and hung the nozzle back in its spot against the wall. A thick cloud of steam surrounded him from the murky dishwater filling the oversized industrial sink, opening his pores bringing on the sniffles in that uncomfortable way that happens when you're having a shit day alone in the back room above a marinating tub of filth.

The door burst open suddenly and a short redhead popped in about halfway, "Register!"

He grunted and gave a loud sniffle, wiping hands on his apron as he headed for the door. He stumbled to see her still regarding him from the doorway, "What?"

"You ok today, Roxas?" She looked unsure in that way people do when they've just been asked if they want to adopt a puppy.

"Yea. Just sinuses."

She made a quiet but not entirely convinced 'o' with thin lips and guided him back out the swinging doors.

Sure enough there was a line growing in front of the small grey counter top, mostly unhurried college students and a couple indecisive older ladies from the bank down the block, staring at the small print of the menu on the wall above them and trying to solve the mysterious difference between a cappuccino and latte.

He approached the register, ringing it back into service and starting through the list of orders systematically like crossing names off of a list.

"I want a cappuccino. I think that's the one I want. But I don't want all that foam. I don't really like all that foam." Customer 07 met his eyes pointedly from beneath a mop of mostly silvering red hair as though these would be the last words he recalled as he lay hacking and dying before drifting off into a peaceful oblivion.

Roxas wordlessly nodded and rang her up for a latte. He would have liked to say he didn't understand old people, but realistically he knew he didn't understand anyone.

When the line finally came to an end and the last of the small rush came to an end, Kairi excused herself to take out the trash and mess around in the office like she often did, texting her boyfriend probably. Roxas looked around hopelessly. Dining was clean, counters were as sparkling as grey linoleum ever really got, everything was in place. Usually at this point he would take a seat on the tall white stool behind the register and pull out his book until someone else came in, but today something was gnawing softly, but with aching consistency, at the back of his mind.

Unread text messages from brothers and long bike rides that don't stop even after cutting your heels on the greasy old chain.

He pulled at his earlobe, fingers aching for some sort of business to keep them occupied.

"You guys open?"

The blond jumped, not having even heard the customer enter, and spun around the face the counter in his usual manner. And froze awkwardly.

"Thought you could get away with ignoring my calls forever, huh."

"Hey Dem."

"I called you like four times, dude. Seriously? You so busy fuckin' that backstreet boy you can't even pick up the phone?" Demyx sneered and made tch-ing sound, "That's weak sauce, bro."

"I wasn't fucking—That's not why. I meant to call you back today but I left my phone at…"

"Ha! Of course you did, you piece of shit. So party's at eight, and you're coming."

Roxas was quiet for a minute, "Actually I think I'm gonna pass."

"No, you're coming. I will come pick you up, and you are coming. End of story. See you at seven-thirty."

There was little chance to respond to such a bold statement on the older boy's part, and Roxas wasn't sure he had the energy to counter, so he let it go.

* * *

The rest of the day came and went in that dull way that they do when you have begrudging plans. No big rushes followed the visit, at least before his shift ended at six, and with restless mind and body he finally stumbled through the back alley to his bike. Wondering if he could chance a visit to Hayner's to pick up his phone before Demyx showed up at his apartment later.

The ride to Hayner's was an easy couple of blocks from downtown and the cafe where Roxas worked, thus a reason he often stayed there before working early shifts. When he pulled up to the small block of obviously older town homes in slight disrepair, he threw his bike on the ground and mounted the steps with a familiar stride.

There was no need to knock, as he pushed the latch and stepped inside, stepping hesitantly still as he always did against the loud creaking of unfinished floor boards.

The house was motionless inside, dust settling from the open door in the leftover daylight streaking in through a large front window to his left. The sound of creaking springs and voices hovered like low-flying birds and echoed from atop the uncarpeted staircase.

Roxas followed the stairs up quietly and hesitated again at the last step before the open doorway.

An unfinished room, makeshift in some ways as though the person living there was a squatter rather than an actual resident. A few piles of laundry, a broken dresser and a low messy bed. In the middle of it all, on wrinkled white sheets, Hayner lay on his back with his fists clenching into the sheets beneath him and body glistening with sweat. Atop his hips a lanky brunet rode in steady time, thighs clenching and breasts bouncing as moan after moan crept like ghosts from her open mouth.

Roxas averted his eyes slightly and knocked on the peeling doorframe.

The movement ceased and the two figures on the bed scurried to make themselves more decent before glancing in his direction.

"Oh hey Roxas! Wasn't expecting you around tonight…" Hayner abandoned the pre tense of the sheet or the tinge of impatience in his voice, "What can I help you with?"

Olette was chewing her lip and examining the spine of a book on the bedside table with enormous curiosity.

"Just left my phone." He stepped into the room and approached a scuffed up cherry dresser near the closet, locating the small black device easily.

"Oh, yea. It rang a couple of times. Your brother and that guy—"

"Dem, yea. He mentioned it."

"Oh ok. Call me later, yeah?"

Roxas nodded and slipped out again as quietly as he had entered.

_You know what today is right?_

_I dreamt about her last night._

_Hey, I keep calling you._

_Why won't you pick up the phone?_

* * *

The buzzer shook Roxas out of the darkness. He wasn't sure of when he had fallen asleep, but daylight had died during that time and left the apartment in pitch black. He fumbled for the switch of a nearby lamp and made his way to the small keypad by the door.

"Hey! Are you ready?"

Roxas frowned down at his black v-neck, riddled with mysterious splotches of syrup. "Uh, yeah."

"Ok, then get down here. Let's go!"

"Just a sec." He stumbled back into his room and sifted through a couple of drawers quickly until he came across a simple grey T-shirt and changed it out with his old work gear.

"You said you were ready." Demyx was giving him a deflated look from the driver's side a few minutes later as the smaller blonde wriggled around in the seat next to him, pulling on a black beanie and equally colourful hoodie.

"Yea, and…" He fixed his sleeve and leaned back in the seat, "Now I am."

"Yea, ready to rob a convenience store."

Roxas put his hands in his pockets, flipping and closing his phone inattentively as his friend proceeded to give him the run down on people and things. People and things and details he would already know if he 'picked up your god damn phone when you're supposed to!'

When they pulled up to the midsize suburban home, it was already crawling. Literally crawling.

"You bitches are fixing those drain pipes if you break 'em!" Demyx yelled through the open window of his rundown Toyota, quickly parking and stomping across the small yard.

Roxas stepped out of the car a little more slowly and headed toward the door, himself, hands still fidgeting in his pockets as his rubber soles crunched the dry grass beneath them. He hiked up the small brick and mortar stoop and into the crowded living room with little thought or strategy. He knew the routine: Stand around quietly with strange Solo cup concoction ala Zexion, say hi and fist bump random strangers that pretended they knew him, wait until at least two random couples were making out in the living room and then quietly slip outside and catch the bus back to the darkened hole in the wall where he slept.

The living room greeted him with a mass of faces, laughing and talking and holding drinks like some well-staged photograph of Modern Youth Culture. A couple of waves from vaguely familiar faces and only one fist bump with a mysterious stranger later he finally wound up in the kitchen where Zexion and Larxene were pouring chemicals into several multicoloured mixing bowls on the kitchen table, a tower of Solo cups teetering dangerously towards the floor nearby.

Roxas paused with half a mind to tell them they looked like witches, but stood quietly in the doorway watching instead.

"Hand me the rum." The blond girl was muttering.

"I already did. You used it all—" The dark haired boy glanced up, "Roxas! Grab a cup."

Roxas dipped his head calmly at the two of them in greeting and carefully pulled a cup from the leaning stack, watching as Zexion grabbed it from him and ladled in some of the concoction from a lime green bowl with a low cackle.

"Be careful, this could kill you."

Larxene snorted and emptied a half of tequila into the orange bowl in front of her.

"Uh, thanks."

He quietly wondered back towards the living room, narrowly dodging two people chasing one another and a heavily scarred guy Roxas had met before but was still fairly certain was far too old to be at a party over run with college students. The living room wound around into a "dining room", that was nothing but a glorified second living room, and encompassed a small foyer as well where people mingled freely. He took a sip of the foul tasting poison in his hand and roamed the sea of faces.

There were relatively few people he knew. Of course he knew them by way of having seen them at Demyx's parties before, but no one he knew well enough to start a conversation with.

His eyes caught on Marluxia for a minute, who was giggling in a corner with a bunch of girls, slapping each other's shoulders in that way that girls do when they're drunk and agree about something more than usual. Then a little farther to Saix in the arm chair near the window who was looking up and talking to someone tall with long, loud red hair.

Roxas felt like a hand had just reached inside his chest and was making wild, jittery gestures at the place biology told him his heart should be.

He took another gulp from the cup in his hand.

The redhead shifted his weight from one leg to the other suddenly, legs flexing in a pair of dark stovepipes and scuffed green chucks. Red hair ran in organised chaos to midway down the back of an informal charcoal blazer.

Another gulp. There was no way. Absolutely no way that was who it looked like it was. Roxas glanced around for a moment in sudden panic, but stopped when his eyes caught on the redhead's long arms, gesturing animatedly for a moment as he explained something.

Everything was the same. Different but the same. Older now but the same.

"Axel!"

The redhead turned, bright green eyes darting toward the doorway. Small tattoos marked the top of each cheek. Roxas felt his eyes go wide from behind the rim of his cup as Demyx practically flounced over to the redhead and slung an arm around his shoulder, initiating the taller boy in a lively conversation immediately.

His chest hurt. A hard pain that came as sudden as a swinging hammer. He needed to get out of here. This day needed to end already. He hated this day. Nothing good ever came of May 15th.

Roxas turned slightly, eyeing the doorway to the kitchen and began to walk slowly and surreptitiously towards it.

He was almost there, when a hand suddenly grasped his shoulder and suddenly Demyx was right beside him, grinning.

"Roxas! See you got some of the crunch punch! Go easy on that stuff, man! Rememeber we just got here."

Roxas stared at him with wide, terror-concealing eyes for a moment before glancing beyond the blond's shoulder back to the redhead across the room.

Green eyes were wide and staring right back at him.

"…Roxas?"

* * *

And scene. TBC obviously.


End file.
